


capable of being loved

by maraudersourwolf



Series: yellow post-it notes [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Diary/Journal, Feelings, Feelings Realization, M/M, POV Liam, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: There’s a notepad on his hands and it weights more than all his fears and memories together, more than anything he could ever have experienced and at the same time it weights nothing more than what a couple of paper sheets and a cover would.This is the closest thing to Theo’s soul that Liam have ever seen.





	capable of being loved

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta’d, so any mistake is completely my own fault. And yes, I know, the title sucks.  
> I’m really sorry if this sucks, I swear someday I’ll write a really fluffy fic for this two.
> 
> Tumblr keeps throwing pictures at my way that make me want to write, so here another attempt at doing so. 
> 
> My last gift of the year for this amazing fandom ♥ Hope you guys enjoy it!

 

Liam looks up from his hands for what feels like the hundreth time but the lump on his throat hasn't vanished yet. Outside the window, the world is brighter than ever but he can only feel the dark hollow aching in the middle of his chest. There’s a notepad on his hands and it weights more than all his fears and memories together, more than anything he could ever have experienced and at the same time it weights nothing more than what a couple of paper sheets and a cover would.

Maybe it's the way the paper is worn and dirty and twisted on the corners, used and forgotten and used again. Maybe it's the spots of ink, mud and something that seems like goo and blood. Maybe it’s the tickets, the candy wrappers, the leafs, the flowers, the stamps, the pieces of life together that he can’t properly decipher. Maybe it's the ragged state of the cover; what seems like claws trying to reach something deeper than cardboard and fabric.

Maybe it's just him, his guilt.

Because if there's something that can tear him apart besides his anger, it's the way he lets the guilt put shackles on his feet and drag him down to the bottom of a hole. There was a moment when that was somewhat funny; nothing like right now, self deprecation eating him whole.

He knows he shouldn't have done this. There’s a voice in his head that sound too much like a mixture between Scott and Mason and disappointment itself that tells him how royally he fucked it up. He should have known that there was no way the universe decided to finally throw him a bone. Not after his dad leaving. Not after the IED diagnose. Not after the bite nor after every time the supernatural tried so hard to dig his grave once and for all. Luck isn’t on his side but he keeps playing with it, tempting the odds in the most stupid way until it came back to bite him in the ass. Breaking rules is supposed to be easy, to be fun when you’re young and wild. Maybe is something you get used to, like the taste of cheap alcohol burning your tongue or the rancid sensation of smoke in your throat after a cigarrete. He wonders how Theo did it for so much time. But where the chimera has rules, Liam instead has the limit lines all blurry. This was so out of character of him, so reckless.

He’s so messed up. 

Liam's fingers pick absently at the corner or one of the yellow post-it notes glued to the worn out pages of the journal. He remembers a teacher once telling a story about Van Gogh eating yellow paint when he was in his lowest point because the painter saw yellow as light and thought the paint would make everything ugly inside him fade. He wonders if it has something to do with Theo chosing that color. He wounders if maybe he's reading too much into it. He wonders. He swallows thickly and the lump of tears doesn't bulge. 

The screams at the back of his mind have Theo's voice and he tries in vain to get back that feeling of self-righteousness back when they opened Hell's gate for the chimera and sealed his fate. He wants to pat himself in the back again, clap away the dust of his hands and call a new day. Instead, he feels sick. 

This wasn't his to see. 

When he found the notepad under the rug of the pick up, he just thought this was it. His chance to turn the tables and for once be the one laughing instead of the one being laughed at. Make some joke about how the big badass chimera, the deadly experiment, survivor of hell has a diary, of all things. He knew that taking a look was bad but how bad could it really be? It was there, in the floor, without a lock nor anything that would prevent any other person from taking it. How could he let that oportunity slip? So he took it and read it. But after the high had worn off and everything those pages had written punched him in the face, he understood.

This is the closest thing to Theo’s soul that Liam have ever seen.

He looks back at the journal again and feels judged. Theo isn’t cautious with this because nobody cares enough. He is alone in a world to which he was brought back to the sole purpose of being used, discarded and hated. He wants to be angry, to blame the chimera because everything that happened was for a reason and there’s only him to blame. But that was so long ago and there is so much effort, so much change. The guilt keeps compressing his chest until breathing hurts. The only little thing that was his alone, that was only Theo’s, and he has to go and ruin it. He wonders what Scott would think. About this, about him, about Theo.

The first post-it burns on his head and he can feel a thobbing behind his eyes that gives away a dull pain. 

_It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts._

He feels so stupid for being so surprised at the fact that Theo has feelings. The bad chimera, all snark and snap and sarcarsm, aches in every corner of his body and lets his mind haunt him from the inside. Liam looks at the scrawny handrwritting, getting wider, messier. Terrified whispers that go into piercing screams inside the ink. Everything seems so small and unintelligible, almost like a smudge in the paper. But instead is full of feelings that Liam doesn’t know how to craddle into his hands and cure. 

There’s enough determination in his soul to close the journal with a snap and hide it again. He’s breathing sharper and the anger is swelling inside him, boiling in his very core and eating alive every nerve of his body. The frustration makes tears prickle at the corners of his eyes but he has no right to cry, so he bites his lower lip until the cooper taste fills his tongue and makes his stomach feel more sick than before. How haven’t he noticed? How could he be so naive? He wants to say that he didn’t know, but he never even tried to. The anger is tearing his insides and he wants to scream just for the sake of getting air in his lungs. He feels ugly inside and wants to take it all out. He growls, pulling at his hair and then he suddenly stops. He starts to even his breath back to normal, to tap down the overwhelming feeling of sadness that’s feeding the rage. He can’t cave in into it, he needs to sort this out.

He’s naive and he’s stupid and he probably doesn’t deserve forgiveness for the shit he pulls. But Theo does. Theo, who fought and got hurt and got scared but kept firm on his ground for the sake of a pack who just used him as brute force and to deal with Liam’s fury, as an outlet. Theo, who has a journal with things that reminds him what being alive feels like for those days when nightmares suffocates him and the blood pumping through his vains doesn’t convince him that his heart is still on his chest. Theo, who writes everything he thinks into post it notes and bury them into long forgotten pages of an old notepad. Theo, who’s alone in the world. Theo, who’s free but didn’t leave. Theo, who’s still there.

The noise of the truck unlocking itself makes Liam jump out of his mind and Theo laughs at him like many other times, but Liam feels something inside him swirl and there is a need to hear that beautiful sound over and over. 

Theo starts driving and they’re quiet but for the first time in forever it doesn’t get on Liam’s nerves. He just looks at the chimera like if this was the first time seeing him, and maybe it is. Suddenly he notices the small bags under Theo’s eyes, the tapping of his fingers in the steering wheel, the way he sucks on his lower lip every two seconds and how he looks from one side to another too many times to be healty. He looks like a scared animal and for a moment Liam feels like a predator playing with his food. He doesn’t want to consume Theo. He doesn’t want to make him even more numb, he doesn’t want to keep breaking him, he doesn’t want to keep all this charade up. But what does he wants to then?

The last post-it note is marked in his memory and Liam’s sure he will never be able to forget it, the handwriting that seemed to fade into a silent plea; Liam’s heart aching in the worst way possible.

_Am I capable of being loved?_

Liam struggles for a moment and lets his hand reach one of Theo’s. The chimera looks back at him so quickly that Liam winces simpatetically and for a moment he can see a rising fight that dies quickly in the chimera’s eyes, something dangerously fragile swimming underneath it. Liam doesn’t want to question what’s Theo thinking, so he smiles and looks at the window without taking his hand away. Theo doesn’t either, and the smile on Liam’s lips gets wider, brighter. 

He looks back, Theo smiling warm and softly at the road ahead. Something warm, so different from the ire he recognizes as his own, blooms in his chest. The world is twisting and he doesn’t mind how new this all feels. Yellow post-it notes on his mind. He feels the need to patch up the cracks on Theo’s soul. He wonders if it’s possible, if Theo will leave him do it. He squizzes Theo’s hand underneat his, the chimera’s finger twitching under his touch before he squizzes back. Something settles inside of Liam.

A resolution.

They’ll definitely work on that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the picture that inspired everything
> 
> http://07kyle.tumblr.com/post/133694932327/ive-been-abandoned-since-the-very-beginning


End file.
